Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 93 pages of information about Edward Barnett; a Neglected Child of South Carolina, Who Rose to Be a Peer of Great Britain,—and the Stormy Life of His Grandfather, Captain Williams.

So saying, the burly seaman, preceded by the landlady,
retired to his chamber. The house was soon in
quiet, but the boy sat long by the decaying embers
of the fire, musing over the words “he shall
be stripped of his rank and titles”—­then
took from his vest a small gold locket. It contained
a lock of hair—­two persons’ hair entwined
together, dark and fair—­but it bore the
impress of a coronet, and the proud motto, “Nulli
Secundi.”

CHAPTER III.

Theagent.

Great was the concourse that thronged the room to
which we first introduced our reader, on the morning
after the events we have detailed—­the weather-beaten
mariner was there to state his charge—­the
parish clerk with more than usual importance was ready
to act as secretary—­the lawyer, the curate,
all prepared to play their part in the approaching
drama of real life. The Earl in his magisterial
seat—­bitter mockery of justice—­prepared
to sit in judgment on a wretch not half so guilty
as himself. But he belonged to a privileged class—­the
other was one of the “lower orders.”

The entrance of Mr. Simpkins the constable, with rueful
countenance and faltering voice, with the intelligence
that the prisoner had escaped, created a great sensation.
No one was more indignant than the Earl—­though
how far this was real may be judged when we inform
the reader that Lambert had held a long conversation
with the prisoner, Simpkins and his two assistants
being first treated to a powerful opiate in a mug
of ale. This conversation had resulted in Curly
Tom’s departing—­a pensioned tool,
a hired slave, to do the will, even to murder, of
his titled employer—­he had no choice save
the gallows. The constable was severely reprimanded,
a reward offered for the apprehension of the fugitive—­the
seaman’s deposition taken in due form, and all
the forms of law gone through with as if it had indeed
been a court of justice. The seaman treated the
affair lightly, laughed and joked with the farmers,
and the crowd began to disperse, when a burst of musical
laughter, bitter mocking in its tones, was heard in
the apartment. It came from no one there.
All stood aghast. Many a stout-hearted countryman
who would have faced a cannon without shrinking, trembled
and turned pale. The women shrieked; the nobleman
started up.

‘Let no one quit the apartment,’ said
he. ’Search the walls—­there must
be some secret panel there.’ It was done,
but not a trace, not a knob was visible; all sounded
hard and solid.

‘You have a shipmate with you, my lord,’
said the mariner, ’whose name is not upon the
ship’s books. I have heard of such things
at sea.’

‘And what might your wisdom suppose them to
be?’ said the Earl, with a sneer.

‘It is hard for man to tell,’ said the
seaman, who had not been the slightest discomposed
by the voice. ’He who made the ocean and
the dry land alone knows; but a conscience void of
offence is the sheet anchor for man to rely upon in
the voyage of life. I never knew such a thing
to happen save to a wicked man.’